Yummyyuck
New Member
(Hey, just a heads up.
This story is very unfinished, but as of posting I'm still working on it bit-by-bit.
I'm looking for someone to read what I have finished so far and tell me their thoughts.
If you enjoy what I have finished so far, please let me know. It really helps finish it.)
Tales of Narebeth:
Part 1 - Growth Of Downfall, Bloom Of Trust.
Here we go again. What a downer, just a complete drowner.. To see the man like this forever walking his own path as a sopping mess could only bring you down, just like it did me. The sheer aura seeping from the man gave off mountains of hostility, leaving most at a distance. Despite how well-known he was around the kingdom for being a hero, his audience doesn't view him entirely as such. Not in a bad way - they're just sort of uneasy around such a grumpy person. Even others held to his same regard, the others that fight crime, don't appear to get along with him. What a shame, it really is. He used to be such a normal person back in school. He was that one cocky kid who always stepped into fights that had nothing to do with him, acting all brave - you know the gist. Protecting people. Used to talk to people, too. I'd go speak to the man myself, maybe talk to him, but I can never seem to find a way to approach the situation without presenting myself negatively. I can't afford to make an enemy, but I also can't stop observing them. This unhealthy obsession infecting me has given me too many precious memories that aren't even mine, and continues to do so. You can learn so much about people without their knowledge. Nobody is honest with you these days. That's why it makes me so unhinged when I realize I missed whatever moment in this man's history changed him so. These are moments I'll never see, moments I'll never learn if I can't convince him to open up. I'm so tempted - really shaking with the urge to speak with him right now. But I've already tried on so many occasions, and he's getting suspicious. People get freaked out when you seem to almost always run into them, and when you seem to always know where they are and where they've been. Besides, talking to him is dangerous. I could say something I shouldn't know by accident as my tongue blathers on mid-thought. So, I sit and watch instead. I'm still his friend - I'm always there for him. Just never directly.. That's simply how it is. But anyway..
Right now the man is walking along the sidewalk, passing various buildings and shops. His name is Tora by the way. He's oblivious to my eyes prying at his every move. I wonder if people truly do get the sensation of being watched? Perhaps they do, and they just grow used to it over time. Tora did seem to notice me at first. He turned his head to scan over the area, but he never found me. I never would let him see me, nor anyone who searched. Ahem.. Tora didn't seem all too bright this morning. He looked concerned, stressed, depressed even. So he came out for a stroll to clear his mind, but fate today won't treat him so kind. Up ahead just around the corner was a silent bank heist where a lone burglar slipped right under everyone's nose. I recognize this one - I watched a section of his life during the planning process for this criminal act. He changed who he was; his appearance, his voice, everything. Then proceeded to get a job at the bank using fake information for his records. It took a long time, but he finally pulled it off. Now as he handles the money within the vault he flicks on a natural born ability to become invisible, which includes his clothing and held items such as various sacks of cash. It was magic - abundant in the world. Everyone had it to some degree. And because of this abundance, there are counter measures and precautions in place for this exact situation. The air within the building suddenly thickened like a fog, a jarring mist of magical blue filling the air as it detected the magic usage. It was easy to see through, but unmissable. Unfortunately the thief had already made his way out the door with his prize by the time anyone within the bank knew what was happening. He immediately turned the corner--
Whump!
Stumbling back as the sacks of cash spilled from his hands. His veil of invisibility warped and glitched, fading to reveal the bandit who had just bumped straight into Tora. Guards rushed out from the bank after they realized the front doors opened and shut on their own - stopping once they met the agitated Tora and thief having a stare down. Tora took a step back, hands violently grasping at his own snow white mane. He hadn't even realized the situation before him, let alone the claws involuntarily extending from his fingertips. His head twitched and turned, squirming as the swarm of anger blurred his senses. This was the final straw that broke the camel's back. Something seemingly so small and insignificant - that's all it took. " ..Why the hell can't you just WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING?!" Our little thief turned tail to flee, desperately grasping at his chest as he abandoned the money. His invisibility was his savior from the vision of Tora's gnashing fangs, so he thought. But it was too late. He barely managed to cross the street before Tora's claws dug into the back of his shirt, hauling him back onto the ground where his invisibility failed. The thief's eyes widened as a nonsensical monster towered over him, drooling as its mind was caged in emotion. A ware-beast; that's what Tora is. This monster's eyes gave off a ravenous reflection, its jagged feral ears breaching through its mane. With no remorse he lunged down toward the prey, plunging his predatory claws into its chest. Ripping and tearing open the live man even as onlookers watched. It was a gruesome scene, yet the world around him only cheered it on. Tora was a hero! He stopped the thief! They'd hoot and holler at the dismemberment of this vile criminal, celebrating each splatter of vermillion rain along the road. Fortunately the splotches and splatters of blood eventually came to a slow as Tora's mind wandered back to the driver's seat. What the hell was he doing? He couldn't even comprehend the mangled mess below him. He didn't even remember what he'd just done.. Tora raised from the body, holding his bloodied hands out before himself. He found his breath steadily increasing, his arms quivering as the reality rushed back to him.
"Tora! ..Tora! ..Tora!"
The chanting and cheers from the now gathered audience slowly sunk in. He couldn't hear it before. Tora stepped back, tripping along a loose limb. The crowd surrounded him, drowning his thoughts. It became hard to see, hard to breathe, hard to think. He clenched at his face, blood leaking down along his arm. How could this happen? How could he do this? How could they all just watch? Tora scrambled round, shoving his way past the crowd as he hurried away. Fleeing. He turned down the alleyways so fast I couldn't keep up. I lost sight of him. ..Usually I wouldn't mess with what I shouldn't know, but this horrific display drove me over the edge. It became clear to me something had to be done..
~ ~ ~
Tora found himself contemplating his reflection, bouncing his vocal worries and thoughts off the mimic before him. His bathroom sink was stained a vermillion complexion from the red-ish mess he scraped off his sleeves. The blood. It reminded him repeatedly of his downfall whilst singing a siren's song over and over, teasing at that feral beast whom cried for more. That monster he briefly became - that wasn't truly him, was it? Killing was wrong. What he'd done was wrong, and it stung him so. The bathroom mirror was practically laughing at his defeat, mocking him. And although his actions today we're barbaric and brutal, the citizens only praised him for it. But how could they stomach such consideration? How could this swarm of people perceive a murderer as a hero?
Squawk!
A flutter of pitch black feathers settled to reveal a raven, equipped with parchment in beak. It situated itself below the bathroom door frame, occasionally tilting its head or hopping about as it watched Tora. He eyed the bird as tap water collected in his palms, splashing it over his face. A long breath exhaled from his lungs, turning to face this feathered intruder. Tora had calmed down by now, no longer appearing as a monstrous amalgamation. Though I made certain this bird wouldn't have fled regardless, having dulled its senses in potions. Tora crouched, gently motioning his palm out - to which my letter bird planted the parchment accordingly. Swiftly Tora stood, unrolling and reading my letter. It was an urgent invitation to my abode - little else information given aside from how important I saw it as.
[More writing coming soon. Tell me your thoughts!]
This story is very unfinished, but as of posting I'm still working on it bit-by-bit.
I'm looking for someone to read what I have finished so far and tell me their thoughts.
If you enjoy what I have finished so far, please let me know. It really helps finish it.)
Tales of Narebeth:
Part 1 - Growth Of Downfall, Bloom Of Trust.
Here we go again. What a downer, just a complete drowner.. To see the man like this forever walking his own path as a sopping mess could only bring you down, just like it did me. The sheer aura seeping from the man gave off mountains of hostility, leaving most at a distance. Despite how well-known he was around the kingdom for being a hero, his audience doesn't view him entirely as such. Not in a bad way - they're just sort of uneasy around such a grumpy person. Even others held to his same regard, the others that fight crime, don't appear to get along with him. What a shame, it really is. He used to be such a normal person back in school. He was that one cocky kid who always stepped into fights that had nothing to do with him, acting all brave - you know the gist. Protecting people. Used to talk to people, too. I'd go speak to the man myself, maybe talk to him, but I can never seem to find a way to approach the situation without presenting myself negatively. I can't afford to make an enemy, but I also can't stop observing them. This unhealthy obsession infecting me has given me too many precious memories that aren't even mine, and continues to do so. You can learn so much about people without their knowledge. Nobody is honest with you these days. That's why it makes me so unhinged when I realize I missed whatever moment in this man's history changed him so. These are moments I'll never see, moments I'll never learn if I can't convince him to open up. I'm so tempted - really shaking with the urge to speak with him right now. But I've already tried on so many occasions, and he's getting suspicious. People get freaked out when you seem to almost always run into them, and when you seem to always know where they are and where they've been. Besides, talking to him is dangerous. I could say something I shouldn't know by accident as my tongue blathers on mid-thought. So, I sit and watch instead. I'm still his friend - I'm always there for him. Just never directly.. That's simply how it is. But anyway..
Right now the man is walking along the sidewalk, passing various buildings and shops. His name is Tora by the way. He's oblivious to my eyes prying at his every move. I wonder if people truly do get the sensation of being watched? Perhaps they do, and they just grow used to it over time. Tora did seem to notice me at first. He turned his head to scan over the area, but he never found me. I never would let him see me, nor anyone who searched. Ahem.. Tora didn't seem all too bright this morning. He looked concerned, stressed, depressed even. So he came out for a stroll to clear his mind, but fate today won't treat him so kind. Up ahead just around the corner was a silent bank heist where a lone burglar slipped right under everyone's nose. I recognize this one - I watched a section of his life during the planning process for this criminal act. He changed who he was; his appearance, his voice, everything. Then proceeded to get a job at the bank using fake information for his records. It took a long time, but he finally pulled it off. Now as he handles the money within the vault he flicks on a natural born ability to become invisible, which includes his clothing and held items such as various sacks of cash. It was magic - abundant in the world. Everyone had it to some degree. And because of this abundance, there are counter measures and precautions in place for this exact situation. The air within the building suddenly thickened like a fog, a jarring mist of magical blue filling the air as it detected the magic usage. It was easy to see through, but unmissable. Unfortunately the thief had already made his way out the door with his prize by the time anyone within the bank knew what was happening. He immediately turned the corner--
Whump!
Stumbling back as the sacks of cash spilled from his hands. His veil of invisibility warped and glitched, fading to reveal the bandit who had just bumped straight into Tora. Guards rushed out from the bank after they realized the front doors opened and shut on their own - stopping once they met the agitated Tora and thief having a stare down. Tora took a step back, hands violently grasping at his own snow white mane. He hadn't even realized the situation before him, let alone the claws involuntarily extending from his fingertips. His head twitched and turned, squirming as the swarm of anger blurred his senses. This was the final straw that broke the camel's back. Something seemingly so small and insignificant - that's all it took. " ..Why the hell can't you just WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING?!" Our little thief turned tail to flee, desperately grasping at his chest as he abandoned the money. His invisibility was his savior from the vision of Tora's gnashing fangs, so he thought. But it was too late. He barely managed to cross the street before Tora's claws dug into the back of his shirt, hauling him back onto the ground where his invisibility failed. The thief's eyes widened as a nonsensical monster towered over him, drooling as its mind was caged in emotion. A ware-beast; that's what Tora is. This monster's eyes gave off a ravenous reflection, its jagged feral ears breaching through its mane. With no remorse he lunged down toward the prey, plunging his predatory claws into its chest. Ripping and tearing open the live man even as onlookers watched. It was a gruesome scene, yet the world around him only cheered it on. Tora was a hero! He stopped the thief! They'd hoot and holler at the dismemberment of this vile criminal, celebrating each splatter of vermillion rain along the road. Fortunately the splotches and splatters of blood eventually came to a slow as Tora's mind wandered back to the driver's seat. What the hell was he doing? He couldn't even comprehend the mangled mess below him. He didn't even remember what he'd just done.. Tora raised from the body, holding his bloodied hands out before himself. He found his breath steadily increasing, his arms quivering as the reality rushed back to him.
"Tora! ..Tora! ..Tora!"
The chanting and cheers from the now gathered audience slowly sunk in. He couldn't hear it before. Tora stepped back, tripping along a loose limb. The crowd surrounded him, drowning his thoughts. It became hard to see, hard to breathe, hard to think. He clenched at his face, blood leaking down along his arm. How could this happen? How could he do this? How could they all just watch? Tora scrambled round, shoving his way past the crowd as he hurried away. Fleeing. He turned down the alleyways so fast I couldn't keep up. I lost sight of him. ..Usually I wouldn't mess with what I shouldn't know, but this horrific display drove me over the edge. It became clear to me something had to be done..
~ ~ ~
Tora found himself contemplating his reflection, bouncing his vocal worries and thoughts off the mimic before him. His bathroom sink was stained a vermillion complexion from the red-ish mess he scraped off his sleeves. The blood. It reminded him repeatedly of his downfall whilst singing a siren's song over and over, teasing at that feral beast whom cried for more. That monster he briefly became - that wasn't truly him, was it? Killing was wrong. What he'd done was wrong, and it stung him so. The bathroom mirror was practically laughing at his defeat, mocking him. And although his actions today we're barbaric and brutal, the citizens only praised him for it. But how could they stomach such consideration? How could this swarm of people perceive a murderer as a hero?
Squawk!
A flutter of pitch black feathers settled to reveal a raven, equipped with parchment in beak. It situated itself below the bathroom door frame, occasionally tilting its head or hopping about as it watched Tora. He eyed the bird as tap water collected in his palms, splashing it over his face. A long breath exhaled from his lungs, turning to face this feathered intruder. Tora had calmed down by now, no longer appearing as a monstrous amalgamation. Though I made certain this bird wouldn't have fled regardless, having dulled its senses in potions. Tora crouched, gently motioning his palm out - to which my letter bird planted the parchment accordingly. Swiftly Tora stood, unrolling and reading my letter. It was an urgent invitation to my abode - little else information given aside from how important I saw it as.
[More writing coming soon. Tell me your thoughts!]
